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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24661678">The Abduction And Education Of Mr. Henry Lascelles</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slow_Burn_Sally/pseuds/Slow_Burn_Sally'>Slow_Burn_Sally</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Jonathan Strange &amp; Mr Norrell &amp; Related Fandoms, Jonathan Strange &amp; Mr Norrell (TV), Jonathan Strange &amp; Mr Norrell - Susanna Clarke</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>A little bit of fluff, Abduction, Blow Jobs, Dubious Consent, Enemies With Benefits, Enemies to Enemies Who Have Sex, Face-Fucking, Facial, Frottage, Hate Sex, I tried ok?, Its Hazy With These Boys, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Non-Consensual Bondage, Porn with a little bit of Plot, Spanking</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 04:40:15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,719</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24661678</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slow_Burn_Sally/pseuds/Slow_Burn_Sally</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Childermass is fed up with Lascelles disrespect and he plots to kidnap him and teach him a lesson. Which backfires. Or doesn't.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>John Childermass/Henry Lascelles</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Abduction And Education Of Mr. Henry Lascelles</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>For several weeks now, Mr. Henry Lascelles had been the guest of Mr. Norrell in order to help him with the editing of <em>The Friends Of English Magic</em>. And during the entirety of those weeks, he had treated Childermass with barely concealed hostility and derision. </p><p> </p><p>Childermass had not been bothered at first. He knew Lascelles to be a person who thought quite a bit of himself, without sparing much patience or admiration for anyone he saw beneath him, and it was swiftly made clear that he saw Childermass as one of the many people he felt were not worth his time, attention or regard. Childermass was accustomed to this attitude, being that people usually ignored him, or saw themselves as above him, due to his raggedy hair, his old coat and oft-mended clothing and his habit of lurking a bit in the shadows. This was to be expected from a person such as Mr. Lascelles. Let the condescending dandy ignore Childermass if that was what helped him to retain his feelings of superiority. </p><p> </p><p>As the days went by however, Childermass detected a deeper resentment beneath the surface of Lascelles’ cold and dismissive treatment of him. As if the tall haughty man with the red hair were actively disgusted with Childermass’ presence. As if the very sight of Childermass caused Lascelles to seethe with a dark sort of barely suppressed rage.  Childermass was unsure where this revulsion and anger found its origin. He had not had many interactions with Lascelles during his time spent assisting Norrell with <em> The Friends of English Magic</em>. In fact, he had even sought to avoid the other man to the best of his abilities. </p><p> </p><p>To own the truth though, he <em> had </em> on occasion said things which in all fairness were engineered to rile Lascelles' blood. But these were said only <em> after </em>many more blatant and disrespectful remarks from Lascelles to him. And really, could he be blamed for his few instances of impertinence? There were only so many times a man could put up with such rude treatment before he felt compelled to snap back a bit. </p><p> </p><p>Lascelles, for his part, seemed perversely to welcome the conflict. As if he expected it and wished to push it from a few snide comments into a bonfire of conflict and confrontation. Childermass held him off by the simple act of being very difficult to anger, and by not staying long in any room that was already occupied by the foppish gentleman with the cruel mouth who attended Norrell constantly, day and night. </p><p> </p><p>Only last week for example, when Strange had come for a visit with his wife, Norrell had expressed a wish to see the other magician do some magic, and Lascelles had grown petulant and endeavored to swiftly dissuade Norrell from making such a request. Mr. Norrell had then stated a second time that he would in fact enjoy viewing the magic that Mr. Strange had to perform and <em> yet again </em> Mr. Lascelles had sought to intervene.</p><p> </p><p>Childermass had decided he’d had enough of the man’s nonsense for one day, and had simply stated “Let the man do his trick.”</p><p> </p><p>Lascelles’ eyes, sharp and glinting, had flown instantly to Childermass’ face and he had glared at him as if he had murder on his mind. Childermass had stared calmly back, tracking the tightening of skin around Lascelles’ eyes and the twitch in the muscle at his jaw that betrayed that his teeth were clenched in barely suppressed rage. Norrell, Strange, Mrs. Strange...had all continued on with the topic of magic, oblivious to the unspoken sparks flying between Norrell’s editor and his man of business, and yet Lascelles’ eyes continued to bore into Childermass’ own for several long seconds after the conversation had moved on. </p><p> </p><p>And now, today, after learning of the death of poor Mrs. Strange, Lascelles’ casual coldness toward Strange and his recounting of the rumors surrounding his wife’s death (likely baseless and spread by Lascelles himself, or his odious little friend Drawlight), had gotten under Childermass’ skin. Lascelles’ seemed to have no sympathy or care for anyone but himself and his own reputation. And so Childermass had spoken up again, contradicting Lascelles in front of Norrell for a second time. </p><p> </p><p>This time, Lascelles went pink in the face and demanded that Childermass leave the room, asking that he and Norrell “talk without the servants present.” This was another of his little tactics. To continually remind Norrell, in Childermass’ company, that Childermass was little more than a servant. An errand boy. A valet. Never mind that Norrell owed much of his current success to Childermass’ prodding and cajoling and support. Never mind that Childermass had always felt as if his servitude to Mr. Norrell was a labor of friendship and dedication, to English magic and to the bolstering and promotion of a good friend, rather than simply a way to keep a roof over his head and food in his belly. Lascelles cared not for Childermass’ feelings or his opinion, or the real content of his character, and seemed instead to be hell-bent on humiliating him and dismissing him at every opportunity. </p><p> </p><p>And so, when Lascelles demanded that Childermass leave the room, and Mr. Norrell, a man he trusted as his friend and confidant, <em> agreed </em> with Lascelles’ and asked Childermass to leave...well, it was at that time that Childermass came to the end of his patience. He was angry with Norrell, but, he was also used to Norrell’ miopic nature and his fear of disapproval. Lascelles on the other hand? This had been the last straw. He stalked from Norrell’s study, letting the door slam behind him with more force than was absolutely necessary, and went straight to his room. Here he paced the floor back and forth, his fists clenched and his breath coming short with the force of his anger. </p><p> </p><p>Lascelles’ behavior toward him was abysmal, yes. It was blatantly disrespectful, and Lascelles himself was the worst sort of person: arrogant, cruel, self important and condescending. Childermass harbored no illusions that the man wouldn’t likely whip him in the street like a dog if given half the chance to do so. But still, this was not the worst thing about Lascelles. </p><p> </p><p>The very worst thing about Mr. Henry Lascelles had nothing whatsoever to do with his character, or his treatment of Childermass. It was not his quickness to leap to anger and derision. It was not his disregard for all those he saw as beneath himself (of which there were many). It was not even the fact that he had wormed his way into Norrell’s good graces and had planted seeds of doubt there about Childermass’ usefulness. These things were all very bad to be sure. But they were not the worst thing about Lascelles.</p><p> </p><p>The very worst thing about Henry Laselles, was that Childermass <em> wanted him</em>. </p><p> </p><p>At first, he not been able to discern why he grew so hot under the collar in the other man’s presence, and had assumed that it was simple dislike that made his cheeks burn and his palms grow damp when Lascelles was near. But this...this shivering feeling he felt in his belly whenever he saw Lascelles’ tall, thin frame and his shock of ginger hair, apparently did not find its origin in simple dislike of the man in general. As Lascelles’ visits to Norrell’s residence grew more frequent and Childermass was thrown together with him more often, he felt the shivering feelings (and the resulting heat) return over and over again, and, to his shame and dismay, they were often accompanied with quite vivid mental fantasies. Fantasies of things he might like to do to Lascelles if they were ever to be left completely alone. Fantasies about the ways he might devise to punish Lascelles and to gratify himself in the process. </p><p> </p><p>For these were not sweet, tender fantasies. Not imaginings of gentle touches and soft words and softer kisses. Oh no. These thoughts that plagued Childermass in the darkness of his bedchamber at night had nothing to do with gentleness at all. Instead, he dreamed of pulling Lascelles’ head back with a hand clenched tightly in his hair. He pictured himself bestowing bites and slaps and scratches upon Lascelles’ snow white skin, marring its beauty and pale purity with bruises and marks. He thought incessantly of ways in which he could humiliate the smug gentleman and bring him low, and these thoughts, all full of sharp words and rough treatment always drove him to commit that sinful yet familiar ‘solitary vice.’  Yes, when Childermass thought of these exquisite punishments he longed to bestow upon his adversary, he could not help but to take hold of his cock and stroke himself until he reached the peak of his pleasure, thoughts of Lascelles’ tearful face and bruised, reddened skin flitting through his mind as Childermass satisfied himself to them over and over. </p><p> </p><p>And so, he found himself trapped in a vicious cycle. He would see Lascelles virtually every day, and whenever he saw the man, he would feel the heat and tension in his body and would struggle to keep it from showing upon his face. He would also usually be subjected to the despicable aspects of Lascelles’ personality, so that he was often trapped between the desires of his body and the active dislike of the man’s ways of behaving. And frustratingly, the latter often served to further inflame the former. He found that the more unpleasant Lascelles was to him, the more the other man sneered at him and dismissed him, the more he longed to punish Lascelles in the most delicious and strict of ways. </p><p> </p><p>Today, after being asked to leave the room, when he had never before been asked to do so by Norrell, all on the urging of Mr. Lascelles, Childermass found himself pulled strongly by these twin, conflicting desires. The desire to do bodily harm to Lascelles, mixing with the desire to satisfy his lust upon the man’s body. It was almost unbearable. And so, he began to devise a plot to make Lascelles pay. </p><p> </p><p>It was a simple plan really. He would find a way to capture Lascelles and drag him to Childermass’ room, where, by the use of magic spells, he would terrify the wits out of the useless prat and teach him that Childermass was not in fact a servant at all, but rather a powerful and dangerous magician. Childermass knew many spells and the proper execution of them from his eighteen long years spent as Norrell’s aid and man of business. He could quite easily use a few choice incantations to make Lascelles think twice before disrespecting him so. After the man had been duly chastised and terrified by Childermass’ magical prowess, he would let Lascelles go with a warning, to not dare to disrespect Childermass again and to furthermore not dare to speak to Norrell of what had transpired. For if he did, Childermass would find ways to haunt his nightmares and ruin all of his endeavors with the use of magic. </p><p> </p><p>As for his lustful thoughts, he would simply have to put them aside. Forcing himself on Lascelles, a man who so clearly loathed the sight of him, was not at all exciting. And even if it were, Childermass was not the sort to force himself on anyone in a sexual manner. No, his fantasies of intercorse with Lascelles always involved the other man begging to be debased, unable to help how the sight of Childermass’ face and body drove him to acts of shameful submission to Childermass’ will. They were fantasies of Lascelles writhing and begging upon his bed for Childermass to abuse his body. And if they were best left in the realm of his imaginings, on the evenings when he partook in the act of pleasuring himself, then so be it. </p><p> </p><p>Now it only remained to somehow get Lascelles alone in a private place. This should not be very difficult. Childermass had spent many years before entering into the employ of Norrell as a pickpocket and vagabond and sometimes a sailor. And, over the course of those years, he’d learned several tricks with which to defend himself and confound anyone who meant to do him harm. One such trick involved a rope, tied into a noose and swiftly slipped over the hands of one’s victim and tightened about his wrists, usually while he slept, (but it could also be done in broad daylight while the person’s attention was securely fixed elsewhere…) This trick, this securing of hands, if employed correctly, would tie up one’s adversary quite quickly and effectively. The end of the rope could then be slung over the beam of a ceiling, or used to tie the person’s feet. </p><p> </p><p>Childermass thought long and hard about how to enact his plan. He thought about it as he finished with his day's errands and he thought about it while he took his supper with the rest of  Norrell’s servants in the kitchen. He thought about it as he tried to concentrate on the book he had brought with him to his room to read before he retired, and he thought about it as he readied himself for bed. Unfortunately, while he had made a promise to himself not to take physical advantage of Lascelles once he had him bound and helpless, the mere contemplation of doing such a thing had his cock hard and throbbing with excitement. He could not help but touch himself, imagining Lascelles’ gruff voice, begging Childermass for sexual release, imagining Lascelles’ pale, slender body, covered with red marks from Childermass’ hands and mouth and teeth. </p><p> </p><p>After he had used these filthy imaginings to bring himself to the peak of his pleasure, he cleaned up the resulting mess and resolved himself to get a good night’s sleep. He would need all of his strength and cunning to do what he’d decided must be done to teach Lascelles a lesson on the morrow. </p><p> </p><p>…..</p><p> </p><p>The next morning, he woke bright and early and washed up in the basin in his room, dressing with a bit more care than usual. Once he had completed his toilet to his satisfaction, he went down to breakfast and then, as usual to Norrell’s study to see what his master required of him for the day. </p><p> </p><p>He was not surprised to find that Lascelles was due to arrive in an hour or so, as there was rarely a day that went by that they weren’t visited by him in some capacity or another. Mr. Norrell seemed distracted, and made no mention of his asking Childermass to leave the room the day before, and Childermass did not broach the subject either. His master was never one for apologies or acknowledgements unless it led back directly to his own needs. He was not a cruel man, but neither was he particularly thoughtful on the feelings of others. This, upon a moments reflection would have been easily understood if one observed that human beings did not have bindings and pages and words of magic written upon them.</p><p> </p><p>Norrell asked Childermass to help him catalogue some of his older books on magic and find homes for them upon his many shelves and gave him some instructions to pass along to various of the other servants, and the hour before Lascelles was to arrive were spent busily and in relative silence. </p><p> </p><p>Soon, Childermass could hear the ‘thock-thock’ sound of Lascelles heeled shoes upon the stairs from the front parlor and he grinned to himself in anticipation.  He decided that despite the thrill in the pit of his stomach he felt upon hearing Lascelles approach, that it would be best if he made himself absent for the first part of the day. He intended on kidnapping Lascelles as he was leaving Norrell’s house, as it would allow him the luxury of taking his time, not having to contend with Norrell expecting him to return. And so he went about his tasks that took him out of the house first, going down to the market to find fresh stores of ink to purchase and to speak to a rare book dealer on Brook Street to inquire about a volume that Norrell had heard rumor might be procurable. </p><p> </p><p>After his errands were done, he returned to the house and took up his usual place at a desk in Norrell’s study, out of the way of Norrell and Lascelles’ business with the editing of <em> Friends </em> and busied himself with some bookkeeping. If Norrell asked him for assistance, he would gladly supply it, but in the meantime, he endeavored to keep his head down and make himself as unnoticeable as possible. He had always excelled at being unnoticeable, of melting into the background, and he was pleased to see both Norrell and Lascelles seemingly forget that he was there at all. </p><p> </p><p>The afternoon continued in such a way, with the two men working on the book and Childermass doing quiet tasks at his desk, unobserved, until at about five o’clock, Lascelles announced that he needed to leave for the day. He (of course) spent a good fifteen minutes after this point praising Norrell, babbling about this or that society ball that Norrell should attend and which widow had been seen stepping out with the butcher and so on and so forth. Childermass found such useless small talk and gossip frightfully dull, but today, when it signalled the imminent initiation of his plan, he found himself all covered with goose pimples and with butterflies flitting about in his belly. </p><p> </p><p>As he saw Lascelles turn to leave Norrell’s study, he felt a flash of apprehension and doubt. What if this were a monumentally foolhardy undertaking? What if Lascelles did not heed his threats and ran immediately to Norrell? What if he laughed at Childermass’ attempts to intimidate him?</p><p> </p><p>But then he remembered the way Lascelles had treated him for the past several weeks, and he felt his resolve return in force. This was only what Mr. Lascelles richly deserved for being such a horrid, condescending arse to Childermass and anyone else he saw as not up to his high standards of social graces or social influence. </p><p> </p><p>Childermass waited a few moments for Lascelles to descend the stairs. He happened to know that the foppish man spent a goodly amount of time with the putting on of his coat in the foyer and with making sure his reflection was perfectly to his liking before leaving the house, which gave Childermass plenty of time to rise and follow him down at a distance. Once he reached the foyer, he saw that Norrell’s maid Agatha had helped Lascelles on with his coat and now stood at attendance. He caught her eye and dismissed her with a nod of his head. She curtsied and left without a word.</p><p> </p><p>Lascelles meanwhile was still arranging his hair in the mirror and brushing at his lapels and generally being absorbed in his own appearance. He had just realized that Childermass was approaching, and Childermass could just see the beginnings of his usual sneer forming when he walked up behind the man. He grabbed Lascelles by the shoulders and spun him around, ignoring his gasp of surprise, Childermass smoothly slipped the noose of the rope he’d had in his pocket over Lascelles’ wrists and pulled it tight.</p><p> </p><p>“What?! How da-” was all that Lascelles was able to say before Childermass stepped up close to him, wrapped an arm around his waist and muttered a few short words. The foyer disappeared, and after a rush of wind and a confusing tumble of dark colors, he and Lascelles were now standing in Childermass’ bedchamber. </p><p> </p><p>Before Lascelles could gather his wits about him, Childermass executed a spell to dampen the sound coming from his room and flung one end of the rope over a beam in his ceiling and pulled it taut. This brought Lascelles’ bound hands up above his head, and in a matter of less than a minute the man found himself in an unfamiliar room, trussed up like a chicken for slaughter. Childermass grinned at the shocked look on Lascelles’ face. </p><p> </p><p>“How <em> dare you! </em>” Lascelles yelped, and the clear note of fear in his voice made Childermass smile even more broadly. “Mr. Norrell!! Mr. Norrell!!” He cried, looking about him for some means of escape, but of course, there were none. He was tied with his hands pulled up above his head in the middle of a bare room that only contained a bed, a set of drawers, a small table and a washbasin. It was just him and Childermass now, and watching the realization dawn across his face of just what had transpired, had Childermass chuckling openly at Lascelles’ look of panic.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s right. Cry out all you want sir, for no one will hear you. I have you now sir, and I don’t plan on letting you go until you’ve learned your lesson.” And with that, he whispered a few words and the shadows of the room seemed to coalesce into disturbing shapes that curled around Childermass as if he were their beloved master, and they a passel of snakes. He executed another spell and a slim black blade appeared in his hand. He whipped it through the air a few times, just so Lascelles could hear it whistle, then turned on the bound man with a humorless grin on his face. He must have appeared impressive indeed, cloaked in swirling shadows, the blade waving threateningly back and forth in his hand right at the level of Lascelles stomach, which was now heaving in and out with the strength of his panicked breathing. </p><p> </p><p>“What...what do you plan to do to me?” the man stammered. “You won’t get away with it, you know that. I shall tell Norrell and the authorities and everyone of importance in London and you will be hanged for kidnapping!” The tall red haired man’s eyes were flashing with indignation, but also, Childermass could see the fear in their depths, and this made him happy. </p><p> </p><p>“You’ll do no such thing Mr. Lascelles. For if you do, I will haunt you until the day you die. Did you not know that magicians, if murdered, become pernicious ghosts who torment those who caused their deaths? That, or I shall have Norrell resurrect me, and then I will come after you again, only much less kindly than at present. He has already promised me that he will, as he needs me to stay by his side and assist him come what may.” (Norrell had promised nothing of the sort, but Lascelles was blissfully ignorant of this fact).</p><p> </p><p>Lascelles seemed to consider this for a moment as he breathed like a frightened rabbit in his snare. It was now widely understood that Norrell could resurrect people from the dead, and it was becoming clear that Childermass was also capable of disturbing sorts of magic. He must have known Childermass’ threat held some weight, because he did not immediately respond, and instead chewed at his bottom lip as his eyes darted from Childermass’ face, to the shadows playing about his head and shoulders, to the blade and back again. </p><p> </p><p>It was never a good idea to let Lascelles think for too long, and so Childermass took this opportunity to step closer and bring the edge of the black blade up, almost until it pressed against Lascelles’ neck under his chin. The knife was made entirely of shadows and could do little to hurt Lascelles, but Lascelles did not need to know that. </p><p> </p><p>“You’ve been frightfully rude to me Mr. Lascelles,” Childermass purred as the shadow creatures he’d summoned (also harmless illusions...also this was not known by Lascelles) curled and twittered around him in a pleasingly dramatic fashion. “You’ve treated me like a common servant, and have never passed up an opportunity to insult me or order me about. I thought it was time that you learned that I am in fact a magician, just like Norrell… and, just like Norrell, I have access to magic that can hurt you very badly. It would be best sir for you to leave off insulting me.”</p><p> </p><p>Lascelles stuttered, seeming to struggle to find something to say, so Childermass ignored him and continued speaking. “If you do not show me more respect from now on sir, then I shall be forced to do some things to encourage your more compassionate regard in the future. Things that I do not think you will take kindly to.”</p><p> </p><p>His words seemed to have a satisfying effect on Lascelles, who’s mouth had dropped open and whose chest was rising and falling sharply with his rapid breathing. He had gone pale and his eyes were wide as saucers. </p><p> </p><p>“What’ll it be Mr. Lascelles,” Childermass whispered, bringing his face closer to Lascelles’ face, keeping the false shadow knife at Lascelles’ throat and clutching the end of the rope that he’d thrown over the roof beam in his other hand, keeping it taught. “Do you think you can endeavor to treat me with more respect? Or do you want me to <em> teach you a lesson </em>?” He growled the last words while looking intently into Lascelles wide, staring eyes. For a brief moment, he reveled in the pleasure of seeing Lascelles completely speechless and beside himself with fear, but then, a strange thing happened. The other man’s eyes rolled back in his head and he gasped. His eyes fluttered closed, and Childermass could see spots of pink appear upon both of his pale cheeks. </p><p> </p><p>He stepped back, confused at this incongruous reaction, and that’s when he happened to glance down and see a prodigious bulge tenting the front of Lascelles breeches. The man was… deeply affected by Childermass’ actions, only not the way Childermass had intended.  From the look of his now flushed face and the sharp rise and fall of his chest, he was well and truly excited. Childermass stepped back further, struggling to maintain his composure. This had not been on the agenda. Or, rather, it had not been expected in the slightest. Childermass had been prepared for rage, for fear, for begging or threatening. He was not prepared however for lust.</p><p> </p><p>“You are excited by my threats?” he asked, “you are excited by being trussed up and threatened with a knife? You are far more of a devient than I had originally assumed.” His words were all false bravado however, for he felt a sharp pang of heat lance through him at the sight of Lascelles, bound, flushed and panting and erect under his breeches. </p><p> </p><p>“I am no such thing!” Lascelles exclaimed, his voice cracking as he spoke. “It is your spells that have done this to me!”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh no sir,” Childermass replied. “I assure you, I do not traffic in spells that force people to become aroused. It is not <em> my </em> doing. It is your own sick proclivities that have been awakened by the situation you are in.”</p><p> </p><p>“Untie me at once you scoundrel!” Lascelles yelled, but Childrmass noticed that the obvious cock-stand in his breeches had not flagged in the slightest and that he was still flushed and breathing heavily with something that decidedly did not look like fear. </p><p> </p><p>Childermass pulled on the end of the rope, hiking Lascelles’ arms just a little bit higher above his head, hoping that the increased pain of the stretch would lead him back to a place of apprehension, for that was indeed his goal. He was sorely mistaken however, because upon being pulled at, Lascelles let out a small, soft moan. “You <em> scoundrel </em>,” he repeated. Only now, in a voice that was soft and solicitous, and the sound of it caused a twist of lust to bloom inside Childermass’ gut. He realized belatedly that he was also stiffening inside his breeches at the sights and sounds of Lascelles beginning to come undone at the end of his rope. But, as the man had not spoken explicitly of wanting anything other than his freedom, Childermass was forced to proceed as before.</p><p> </p><p>“What will it be?” He asked Lascelles, stepping up close again and pulling again on the rope. “Do we have an understanding? Will you treat me with common courtesy, or will I be forced to show you some more of what I can do?” </p><p> </p><p>Lascelles seemed torn. Part of him was clearly enraged at being tied and threatened in this way and part of him was still clearly very aroused by the proceedings, if his gaping mouth and now-dark eyes full of fire were any indication. “You enjoy lording your power over me, don’t you, you horrid, contemptible person?” He sneered, seeming to err, for the moment on the side of rage. “You cannot have the things that I have, and cannot do the things that I have the privilege of doing and so you must attempt to intimidate me to try and increase your esteem in my eyes. Well Mr. Childermass <em> sir </em>, nothing you could do or say will ever make me respect you.” And with that, he spat in Childermass’ face. </p><p> </p><p>Childermass flinched as the other man’s warm spittle hit his lips and chin, and he felt something snap inside him. Banishing the shadow knife into nothingness, he grabbed Lascelles by the hair and pulled him close with an arm around his waist, while still keeping hold of the rope, so that it pulled a bit tighter by necessity. Lascelles gasped as their bodies made contact and as the grip on the hair at the back of his head tightened and as the rope pulled his bound hands further above him. Childermass fully intended to growl another threat into Lascelles flushed face, but to his surprise, the other man pulled against Childermass’ grip on his hair, just enough to lean forward and press his lips to Childermass’.</p><p> </p><p>This was an unforeseen but quite welcome occurrence. Childermass let out a small noise of surprise and after a brief pause, he released his fist in Lascelles hair and, unable to help himself, kissed Lascelles back. He was unsure of the exact sequence of events from that point forth, but three things happened in quick succession. Firstly, Lascelles’ mouth crashed against his own with quite a bit of force. Secondly, Childermass pressed the whole of his body up against Lascelles’ and moaned at the feel of it. And thirdly, Childermass released the rope. This allowed Lascelles still-bound hands to lower themselves over Childermass’ head until they rested on Childermass’ shoulders, affecting an awkward sort of lover’s embrace. </p><p> </p><p>The situation changed instantly from one of abductor/abductee to a frenzy of mad, wet, violent kisses. Lascelles was pressing his lips and teeth into Childermass’ mouth hard and insistent and making sharp little moans, and Childermass used the arm he had about Lascelles’ waist to pull the man impossibly closer as the fingers of his other hand found their way back up into Lascelles’ hair. All was heat and need and wet lips and urgent noises for quite a few long moments. </p><p> </p><p>Rather than break the kiss, which was bruising and harsh, but had brought Childermass to full, throbbing tumescence, he walked Lascelles backward toward his bed. Once there, he lifted the man’s arms from around his neck and pushed Lascelles down upon the bed in a rough fashion, which had Lascelles letting out a surprised squeak as he found himself suddenly on his back. Childermass then began to undo his breeches. Lascelles glared up at him, panting and still quite pink, and his eyes greedily tracked the movement of Childermass’s hands as he worked to undress himself. </p><p> </p><p>“So, this is your plan? To force yourself upon me? To take me and use me for your pleasure against my will?” He had the audacity to say this while lying unmoving in Childermass’ bed with his cock-stand clear and hard and pressing against his own breeches. </p><p> </p><p>Childermass paused, frowning. “Not at all sir. I would never dream of forcing myself on anyone,” and as he said this, he finished undoing himself and pushed his breeches down to the tops of his thighs, allowing his own cock-stand to spring free and hang, full and throbbing before Lascelles flushed face. “If you do not want me to proceed, I shall simply dress myself again and you may leave.” He waited for a moment, hands on his hips, watching Lascelles’ gaze roam over his cock with eyes that looked ravenous. When he did not speak, Childermass shrugged and moved to pull his breeches back up. </p><p> </p><p>“No! Wait!” Lascelles shouted, and Childermass grinned triumphantly. “Wait,” Lascelles repeated, propping himself upon his elbow, still unable to keep from staring at Childermass’ stiff private member as if it were a tasty piece of braised lamb and he a starving man. “You’ll tell no one?” he asked, licking his lips. </p><p> </p><p>“I’ll tell no one if you do the same,” replied Childermass. He was pleased to see Lascelles nod, and so he pushed his breeches down to his ankles and stepped out of them, then bent to remove his stockings and shoes. “I would hurry up and undress yourself sir,” he remarked, waving his hands to dissolve the rope that bound Lascelles’ wrists together.  “For I have no intention of touching all your fancy clothing with these dirty hands of mine.” This made Lascelles moan again and fall back against the bed and thrust his hips up into the air a bit, which, to Childermass was an interesting development. </p><p> </p><p>Lascelles somehow managed to rally and dutifully began to unfasten his breeches, remove his jacket and begin to unbutton his waistcoat. It took some doing, as he was fully dressed and so was Childermass and they spent some time in undressing, watching each other all the while. With some wriggling and some rolling about, Lascelles finally managed to divest himself of his clothing and tossed them off the bed, all while Childermass watched him and smirked and did not lift a finger to help. He gave no outward indication about what seeing swaths of Lascelles’ pretty pale skin being revealed bit by bit did to his insides. </p><p> </p><p>Childermass was by now completely naked as well, and so he crawled onto the bed and lay himself down on top of Lascelles and oh, the feeling of their soft skin and rough hair touching along all those private places that clothing had once concealed! Childermass heard himself make an urgent noise and wrapped his arms around Lascelles and they fell to kissing again, this time a little more softly, but with no less enthusiasm. Lascelles was arching up against him, clawing at his back and making desperate noises of pleasure as their lips and tongues mingled together. </p><p> </p><p>“What a wild little kitten you are,” Childermass murmured and Lascelles gasped in offense and bit down on Childermass’ lower lip, which, while it was painful, felt far better than it should have. In response, Childermass gripped Lascelles hips in his hands, hard enough to bruise and rutted against the man so that their cocks slid together. Lascelles cried out and tried to press himself further up against Childermass, but he was held firmly by Childermass’ hands and could not move his hips one inch. Childermass looked down at where his dark, calloused hand gripped Lascelles’ clean, white hip and the sight had him moaning and moving more insistently against Lascelles’ body. </p><p> </p><p>“You filthy, dirty, horrid man. You, you, low born cur! You, worthless vagabond!” Lascelles seemed intent on insulting Childermass, even as he writhed beneath him in ecstasy, and this was not at all a hindrance to Childermass’ ardor. If anything, it only served to inflame him further. </p><p> </p><p>“Go on,” he gasped against Lascelles’ mouth. “Go on and let it all out Mr. Lascelles. Tell me all the things you’ve longed to tell me, for no one can hear you now but I.” He then fell upon Lascelles’ long white neck with open mouthed kisses and sharp bites. </p><p> </p><p>“Oh god! Oh god! You thief! You liar! You horrible, dirty, filthy man! Oh!” Lascelles voice had gone rough and broken and he wrapped his hands in Childermass hair as the two continued to rock together and Childermass continued biting and sucking at his neck. Lascelles was breathless and sounded quite desperate and Childermass could not help but grin against his neck at how the man was becoming completely undone beneath him. </p><p> </p><p>For Childermass’ part, he felt a tight tingling deep in his belly and knew he would spill his seed before too long, and he wanted to do so in a more interesting fashion than simply rubbing against Lascelles’ cock and stomach. He rolled them both until he was now beneath Lascelles, and gripping Lascelles by his flushed face, he looked deep into his eyes. “My cock is in need of a warm, wet mouth,” he said, and watched as Lascelles’ eyes rolled back and he moaned low in his chest. “It sounds as if you have just the mouth for the job,” he continued and pushed quite roughly on Lascelles’ shoulders, urging him downward. At the same time, he pushed himself to sit up against the pillows so that he could have a better view of what he hoped was about to transpire. To his relief, Lascelles went quite willingly, scrambling further down the bed until his face was aligned with Childermass’ erect member where it bobbed thick and ready above his belly.</p><p> </p><p>Once there, Lascelles apparently decided to dither a bit in order to tease Childermass. “How do I know that your cock is not filthy with all the places you have likely stuck it?” he sneered, yet his attempt at putting on a show of disgust was undercut greatly by the hungry look he bestowed upon Childermass’ cock-stand and the way he wrapped a hand possessively about the base. </p><p> </p><p>“Oh I’ve cleaned it, especially for thee,” Childermass smiled down at him, and then placed a hand on the back of Lascelles’ head and pushed him toward his aching prick. “Go on then,” he urged. “Do your job sir.” Lascelles shot him a look, but obediently bent and sucked the tip into his mouth and let his eyes flutter closed in the process. Childermass gasped and fell back against the pillows at the feel of it. “Yes...yes…” he moaned and pushed Lascelles further. More of his cock slid into the wet heat of Lascelles mouth and Childermass again cried out at the intense pleasure of it. It appeared that this particular act was something Lascelles quite enjoyed, for he moaned around Childermass’ shaft and swiftly sank his mouth down all the way on Childermass’ cock until his lips made contact with the hand he had wrapped around it’s base. He then began to bob up and down slowly, yet with much enthusiasm.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes, take my cock. Take it all in that pretty mouth,” Childermass said, as he wrapped both hands in Lascelles’ hair. He pressed Lascelles down further on each downstroke and assisted in pulling him on each upstroke, and soon, Lascelles gave over to Childermass’ grip in his hair and let himself be moved at Childermass’ pleasure. Childermass began to thrust up into Lascelles’ mouth as well, and all of this seemed very much to the other man’s liking, for he was moaning and grunting in the most wanton of fashions as he let Childermass use his mouth in a rough manner. </p><p> </p><p>Childermass reveled in the sight of Lascelles, his mouth stretched around Childermass’ dark red cock, his cheeks hollowing and bowing with each rise and fall, his lashes brushing the tops of his flushed cheeks as he was moved roughly up and down. </p><p> </p><p>Before long, the sight and feel of Lascelles sucking at him had Childermass rushing toward his end, and he called out a warning that he would soon reach his peak. Lascelles only gripped him by the hip and moaned more loudly, a clear invitation for Childermass to finish inside his hot mouth and so Childermass pressed up with his hips and felt his gut twist with sharp pleasure. “Christ, <em> fuck </em>. Take all of me. Drink me down,” he groaned as he felt the pleasure crest and break inside him and he spilled against Lascelles’ tongue. He twitched and spilled for several long moments while Lascelles busied himself with swallowing his seed. He soon felt the waves of intense pleasure slow and fade and he fell back against the pillows and released his grip on Lascelles’ hair. </p><p> </p><p>Lascelles took a moment to wipe at his now bruised, red mouth and catch his breath. His hair was dampened by sweat and clung darkly to his pale brow and he was panting and flushed. His eyes were wild and dark and Childermass privately thought he looked quite beautiful, though he would never say such a thing aloud. </p><p> </p><p>Childermass did not rest for long though, for he dared not let the other man regain a sense of comfort or equilibrium. He had plans for Lascelles, and was glad he had reached his climax once, for it meant he could build himself up and spill his seed yet another time before this little scene was done. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, and grabbing Lascelles by the shoulders, he roughly pulled the other man over his knees like a boy who had been caught stealing sweets. “You have a skilled mouth Mr. Lascelles,” he said as Lascelles yelped and then tried half heartedly to squirm out of his grasp. “Yet I still think you have not quite learned your lesson.” And upon saying this, he raised his hand high in the air and brought it down in a stinging slap against Lascelles’ pale, soft buttock. The man cried out and thrust his hips down into the tops of Childermass’ thighs and Childermass grinned. His suspicion, that Lascelles would respond well to a good spanking, was confirmed. He raised his hand again and brought it down again, this time on the other cheek and again Lascelles writhed and cried out. </p><p> </p><p>“I plan on spanking you until your behind is as red and cheery as an apple,” Childermass remarked. “If you do not wish it, you may simply get up and leave,” he said. Then he raised his hand and waited for Lascelles to struggle free. He was not surprised when the man did no such thing and instead jutted his hips upward and whined in frustrated longing. </p><p> </p><p>“You’ll pay for this, you filthy malcontent,” he said, but it was spoken along with a low moan and he jutted his hips up again in a clear invitation. </p><p> </p><p>“Like I said sir, you are free to leave at any time. But if it is more spanking you want, you must ask for it,” Childermass heard Lascelles growl in frustration and saw and felt him wriggle against Childermass’ thighs, felt Lascelles’ seek relief by rubbing his stiff, hot cock against Childermass’ legs beneath him. “Go on sir and ask for it,” he prompted, his hand up and at the ready to deliver another stinging slap. </p><p> </p><p>Lascelles was silent for a moment longer, but his need for debasement and humiliation must have been a strong one, for he whispered “Yes.” </p><p> </p><p>“What was that Mr. Lascelles? It is hard for me to hear you from this position.” Childermass was enjoying himself greatly and was pleased that his own member was slowly filling again with the feel of Lascelles wriggling and thrusting desperately against his lap. </p><p> </p><p>“I said yes!” Lascelles shouted, turning his head and affording Childermass a glimpse of his reddened face and dark, lust blown eyes. “Yes. Strike me again. Do it, you contemptible wretch!”</p><p> </p><p>This was good enough for Childermass, and so he dutifully brought his hand down and delivered another hard slap to Lascelles’ buttock, then another and another. Lascelles moaned and gasped and writhed beneath him, thrusting himself down against Childermass’ legs with each stinging contact of the hand against his backside. Childermass continued to beat Lascelles until his buttocks were a deep pink color and Childermass’ hand was too sore to continue with the punishment. Lascelles was crying out loudly with each slap and he was jerking his hips against Childermass with an arrhythmic desperation that spoke of his imminent climax. </p><p> </p><p>This would not do for Childermass’ purposes though, and so he stopped spanking Lascelles and instead hauled the man up and with no small effort, pushed him back onto the bed, where he lay, flushed and gasping. His cock was so stiff that it jumped along with his heartbeat above his belly. Childermass took a moment to enjoy the sight of his enemy, red and panting and completely debauched, before he climbed up to kneel beside him on the bed. Before Lascelles could open his mouth to make some sort of complaint or hurl an insult, Childermass rested his hand against the other man’s long, pale neck and pressed down somewhat, hinting gently of a greater pressure still yet to come. He grinned darkly when he saw Lascelles moan and throw his head back at the feel of a hand against his throat. It seemed that all of Childermass’ fantasies about Lascelles wanting humiliation and pain in the act of sex were quite astute, for the man clearly enjoyed the pressure against his throat as much as he’d enjoyed the rough spanking from a moment ago.</p><p> </p><p>“You like that, do you Mr. Lascelles?” He asked, needing to be sure, and smiled when Lascelles nodded against his hand and let out a ruined moan. “Good,” Childermass replied. “Now if you want to reach your peak, you shall have to do it by rubbing against me, like the wanton whore you are.” And with that, he lay himself down atop Lascelles and increased the pressure of his hand against Lascelles’ neck. The other man made a rough sound and thrust his hips up against Childermass and the resulting friction brought Childermass’ cock to full attention and brought a soft gasp from his lips. </p><p><br/>
“Yes. There’s a good lad,” Childermass whispered roughly into Lascelles’ red, flushed ear as he pressed down on the man’s throat and felt him desperately press himself up against Childermass’ body, seeking relief. He experimented with lifting himself up and off Lascelles, so that they were not quite pressed together and smiled as Lascelles canted his hips up and arched his back desperately, trying to regain the friction. Lascelles made a high pitched whining noise, a clear sound of frustration, that Childermass could feel against his palm. </p><p> </p><p>Childermass hovered above Lascelles for another moment or too, supporting himself with his elbow, enjoying the way the man twitched and arched with his attempts to press himself up and against Childermass’ body, before having pity and settling back down on top of him again. Lascelles moaned loudly and began to thrust against him with renewed fervor, and Childermass could not help but thrust down with a slow roll of his hips. This made Lascelles moan all the more and he began to press his neck up into Childermass’ hand, in a silent request for more pressure and so Childermass dutifully closed his hand and leaned into him a bit more firmly, until he could feel the man’s pulse pounding against his palm. </p><p> </p><p>Lascelles was beyond reason now. He was writhing and thrusting and moaning with wild abandon and his face had gone all red from Chilermass’ hand against his neck. It was apparent that he could breath however, because he did so loudly and raggedly as he worked himself against Childermass. </p><p> </p><p>“That’s right sir,” Childermass gasped into Lascelles’ ear, “rub against me until you spill your seed. Rub against me like an <em> animal </em>. Make yourself dirty for me.” The heat and friction between them was building swiftly and before long, Lascelles accomplished his goal and he stiffened and jerked and cried out loudly through clenched teeth as he reached his pleasure. The feel of him straining and spilling, and the resulting slickness between them brought Childermass to the edge swiftly. But before he could climax and before Lascelles was even finished with his own convulsions, Childermass clambered up swiftly to kneel by Lascelles face. He kept his hand firmly pressed to the man’s throat and swiftly stoked himself with his other hand until he felt himself clench and explode in pleasure. He aimed his cock at Lascelles’ face and spurted his seed against the man’s red lips and across his flushed cheeks. The sight of it, the pearlescent streaks of his semen splashing against that once haughty face made Childermass gasp and cry out sharply and almost had him doubling over with the intensity of his pleasure. </p><p> </p><p>The waves of pulsing tingles slowed and faded and Childermass felt himself fall back onto the bed and away from Lascelles. They both lay, exhausted and gasping for some long moments, neither being capable of movement or speech. Childermass felt wrung out and loose and deeply satisfied. He eventually heard Lascelles stir upon the bed and lifted himself up on his elbows to see what the other man was up to. This turned out to be the cleaning of his face with Childermass’ bedsheet. Childermass did the same with Lascelles’ seed that was now plastered to his belly, and resolved to clean his sheets on the morrow, for they were now utterly ruined, albeit in the most pleasant way possible. </p><p> </p><p>Lascelles did not speak. He only clambered clumsily out of Childermass’ bed, got unsteadily to his feet and attempted to begin dressing himself. Childermass meanwhile moved himself up against his pillows and lay back to watch. “You could sleep here,” he suggested, making sure he sounded languid and unconcerned. “There’s room enough,” </p><p> </p><p>“I’d rather sleep in a pit of vipers,” Lascelles snapped as he bent in search of his stockings. </p><p> </p><p>“Come now sir. It is late and my bed is warm,” Childermass flipped the stained sheet aside and patted the mattress beside him, giving Lascelles a sly grin in the process. </p><p> </p><p>Lascelles paused. It was dark outside of Childermass’ windows and it was likely quite late, and quite cold.</p><p> </p><p>“You will need to return here again on the morrow sir,” Childermass reminded him. “Would it not be best to catch some sleep here, rather than make the long journey back to your own residence?”</p><p> </p><p>This, and the fact that he’d had no luck finding his stockings seemed to finally change Lascelles’ mind. He sat back down on the bed and shot daggers at Childermass. “Fine. I shall rest here for a moment. But I am certain that before long I will be awakened by fleas or nits or whatever other vermin are infesting your filthy bed.”</p><p> </p><p>Childermass smiled. His bed was clean (though decidedly less so than usual as it was now bespoiled with both of their emissions). “As you like sir,” he replied, moving over a little further to give Lascelles even more room. The long limbed, red haired man slid in beside him and pulled the sheets and blankets up to his chin, being careful to avoid those areas that were now quite sticky. Childermass rolled over and put his back to Lascelles and soon, both were asleep, for they were both quite tired out from their recent adventures. </p><p> </p><p>Childermass woke in the early morning hours when he felt an arm wrap around his waist and felt Lascelles warm body pressed up against the back of him. Grinning, he rolled carefully onto his back so as to not wake Lascelles and welcome his ire, for if the man realized how very affectionate he was being while unconscious, he would doubtlessly make himself very disagreeable as a result. Lascelles made a soft noise and slung a leg over Childermass’ middle and wrapped his arm more tightly around Childermass’ chest. Burying his face in the crook of Childermass’ neck, he sighed once and then began to snore gently. </p><p> </p><p>Childermass stroked the man’s soft hair and smiled to himself. He was quite looking forward to watching Lascelles trip around Childermass’ bedchamber tomorrow, looking for his missing stockings and glaring at Childermass. It was to this pleasant thought that Childermass drifted off to sleep in Lascelles’ warm arms.</p>
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